


Extra-verbal Communication

by wintermute



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: A little angst, Canon Divergence, Cuddles, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Morse Code, Nightmares, Post-Avengers (2012), Sign Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-15
Updated: 2013-10-15
Packaged: 2017-12-29 11:41:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1005010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintermute/pseuds/wintermute
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Sign language to them both was as natural as the spoken word by this point, but signing in his sleep was new for Clint. Phil had heard of this particular phenomenon; Clint had told him that he’d done it before, but Phil had never actually experienced it himself or on others first hand. Until now.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Extra-verbal Communication

**Author's Note:**

> Finally edited this for posting. Inspired by brassmama and totalnerdatheart's [tumblr post here](http://thisiswintermute.tumblr.com/post/63243573254/brasspumpkin-nowyoukno-see-more-daily-facts).

Phil was drifting in and out of consciousness, comfortable in that place between awake and asleep that he didn’t realize anything was wrong until a sharp elbow poked him right where he had a livid bruise from his last mission.

He didn’t want to move, he was warm and comfortable, and finally home to the apartment he and Clint had moved into together a year ago, after Loki and the Chitauri, with a forty-eight hour shore leave. It was rare that he could afford to not be on guard at all times, to be able to relax and doze. Clint was warm in his arms, being cuddled the way they both liked, and in the morning, he promised to make Clint pancakes and eggs just the way he liked them. Nothing short of a natural disaster or alien invasion was going to take him away from their bed.

Except the poking in his side continued.

Phil blinked open his eyes to find Clint’s hands flying a mile a minute, signing like it was going out of style. Phil knew that Clint had the habit of taking out his hearing aids when he was off mission and could afford to sleep soundly, so he wasn’t surprised that Clint was signing. What worried him was the fact that Clint didn’t seem to be awake.

“Clint? Baby?” Phil shook him gently by the shoulder, reaching out to hold his hands still. “Wake up.”

Clint made a panicked whimper in his sleep, pulled his hands back and continued to sign furiously. Seeing as his first instincts to wake Clint wasn’t working, he sat up to look at Clint properly, trying to gauge his condition by what he was signing. Sign language to them both was as natural as the spoken word by this point, but signing in his sleep was new for Clint. Phil had heard of this particular phenomenon; Clint had told him that he’d done it before, but Phil had never actually experienced it himself or on others first hand. Until now.

 _Get out_ , Clint signed, _get away_. _He’s behind you_.

Phil had a sinking feeling when he saw the sign for spear.

 _Phil_! Clint used his sign for Phil, a nest of birds, a sign for a hawk’s home. _Run! Don’t let him get you! No! Phil!_

Phil sucked in a breath, his hand rising unconsciously to rub at the thick ropey scar on his chest. Shaking his head to clear away the memories, Phil brought his hands up to carefully run his fingers through Clint’s hair, caressing his cheeks with his thumbs. Leaving one hand to continue stroking Clint’s hair, he began tapping a finger on the part of Clint’s upper pectoral that was most sensitive to touch.

 _Clint, baby, you hear me?_ He tapped out in Morse code, knowing that Clint could feel and decipher it even if he was trapped in the throes of a nightmare.

 _Phil?_ Clint signed again, his body stilled then relaxed by just a fraction.

 _Yes, it’s me. Nightmare. Need to wake up._ Phil tapped carefully then tried shaking him again, patting him on the cheek hard enough to sting but not to hurt.

This time, Clint’s eyes fluttered, a sign that he was slowly waking from whatever trapped him in the dream.

Clint latched onto him, arms looping tight around his waist as soon as he woke up. He was still groggy but his arms held firmly onto Phil. Phil dropped his hand down to caress gently on Clint’s back for a long moment while the tremor in Clint’s shoulder subsided.

He tapped on Clint’s shoulder to get his attention before signing, _you okay?_

Clint nodded but gave no answer.

 _Use your words, baby. Are you okay?_ Phil tried again.

 _Yeah, I’ll be fine._ Clint signed back reluctantly.

 _Wanna talk about it?_ Phil signed again.

 _Not tonight. Maybe later?_ Clint looked at him sheepishly. _Sorry for waking you._

_Never be sorry about this. Talk when you feel like it?_

Clint nodded again. _Not sure if I’ll be able to fall asleep again though. I can go to the living room if you want to sleep._

 _It’s okay._ Phil shook his head. _All I need is having you right here. You wanna lie down though?_ Phil signed. Clint nodded before snuggling close. Phil pulled him into his arms once again, using his presence to anchor him while they settle back onto position.

 _Phil?_ Clint tapped into the inside of Phil’s wrist.

“Hmm?” Phil hummed, knowing that Clint could feel the vibration.

 _I love you._ Clint tapped. Phil smiled, leaning in to press a kiss to the top of Clint’s head.

 _I love you too,_ Phil tapped back.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me here: http://thisiswintermute.tumblr.com/


End file.
